Miss Her Still
by aelisa
Summary: Elphaba was certain she loved Fiyero. She was not certain, however, whether she loved him for the right reasons. A little bit of speculation on Elphaba and Fiyero's relationship, and some of the green girl's possible thoughts Rated to be safe.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Wicked. I keep hoping, but… no.

**A/N: **This piece could hardly be called interesting, but the part of the book it focuses on has interested me for a while, so I thought I'd indulge in a little speculation about Elphie's reasons and such. And now I've plucked up the courage to share it with you (nothing to do with the fact that I've been neglecting writing, Wicked in particular, honestly!)

***

_When Elphaba met Glinda for the first time many years earlier, she was reminded why she hated society girls, and why they could never be friends._

-- -- --

Elphaba was certain she loved Fiyero.

She was not certain, however, whether she loved him for the right reasons. Recently, when she found herself with time to spare and little interest in her texts, she had been speculating over the origin of her love for him. She wondered whether it was natural, pure, or whether it was the more artificial love, the sort your subconscious convinces your heart to feel.

But that would mean that Elphaba had been lonely, and the possibility hurt her to consider. For, even though she would never have to admit it to anyone, she knew that it betrayed her desire for complete independence. With no contacts, it would be easier for her to become who she needed to be: nobody.

And the more she thought about it, the more it bothered her. Twitching and muttering, the green woman paced along the creaking floorboards of the hovel and chastised herself. She had been weak to let Fiyero back into her life: yes, she could've evaded him if she'd really tried. If she'd really wanted to. She produced a dark sound from low in her throat as she kicked out, her foot colliding with the musty armchair.

Why? She had thought herself beyond most human feeling – she'd taught herself to be that way. Yet she'd succumbed to Fiyero. She would continue to succumb to Fiyero. Was that not love? A glance out of the skylight told her that he would be returning soon. She sighed as she made her way to the bedroom, where she shucked off her clothing and climbed beneath the covers. As her stomach churned and heart fluttered in the excited anticipation of the prince's arrival, she couldn't help but think of her roommate back at Shiz, with whom she'd often observed the nightly heavens.

-- -- --

But he also pissed her off with his arrogant belief that he was the only person to ever have had her. That same evening, Elphaba found that she couldn't bite her tongue. "You think all this is new to me," she sighed, glancing up at him carefully. "You think I am such a virgin." Her voice was snappier than she'd intended it to be, but Fiyero didn't seem affected. He simply shrugged, admitting – at least to Elphaba's mind – that he was uninterested in her past sexual encounters.

Suddenly, she felt the urge to tell him everything. With the reappearance of Fiyero into her life, Elphaba had found herself reminiscing on her college days, and more specifically, the people she had known. Especially _her._ Elphaba, though never ashamed, had not once spoken of the love she and Glinda had shared. There had never been any need, for she and the petite blonde had once thought – albeit silently – that they would only ever need one another. And Glinda enjoyed the thrill of having their own little secret.

Honestly, Elphie had never cared much for secrets, but had found she was willing to do whatever Glinda wished. To an extent. She couldn't bring herself to return to Shiz, not even when the blonde begged her. Elphaba did not cry, but when she allowed herself to think about the whole sorry experience, she wished that she had at least let tears sting her eyes. Perhaps that would've made Glinda see that she did care. She still cared.

When she opened her mouth to tell her lover of her love, the words that sounded were a deflection.

Fiyero, she understood then, was not meant to know about her and Glinda. He was just the portal back to that time, and the antidote that would make the reflection less painful.

Or so she thought.

-- -- --

The perfect diamonds of Fiyero's skin were mirrors, and though Elphaba adored them, she knew she wouldn't be able to keep looking into them. Within, she saw Glinda, and it made her feel young and foolish and dirty. Damn that girl for making her fall in love with her!

For the largest duration of her affair with Fiyero, she had forbid him from using his hands to touch her below the waist. In the most shadowed and tender parts of her mind, that action was reserved for Glinda. Her betrayal, a small voice reasoned, would be lessened somewhat if the prince was not permitted to feel her.

The ghosts of Glinda's fingertips would not be tarnished by Fiyero's hands.

But as time went on and the love affair intensified, Elphie began to lose the feeling of Glinda. Her memory of the blonde had started to fade, the image of her blurring in the commotion of Elphaba's mind.

The next morning, she and Fiyero argued about her part in the resistance and the imminent 'episode', as she referred to it. Elphaba wasn't sure why, but for some reason, she felt that she wouldn't survive the operation. She had prepared herself for that sacrifice, but as Lurlinemas continued to advance, she felt something indescribable rouse within her.

She needed to be touched.

Her dying memories of the Gillikinese girl she still loved, even after this time, distressed Elphie more than she cared to admit. Panicked and resigned, Elphaba realised that she had nothing left to lose, except Fiyero. Later, she would make him promise to keep himself safe when the time for campaign truly came. But now, now, she needed to be touched.

The rate at which she abandoned the scruples she'd enforced upon their relationship surprised her. She hadn't planned to let him be with her in this way, so she felt rushed and anxious.

The feeling was foreign and familiar, and Elphaba moaned. Her heart beat quickened as she felt him familiarising his hands with her, and she was reminded of her first time with Glinda. The first night on the way to the Emerald City. Oh no, the actual sexual relationship between the two students hadn't lasted for long, but they had come to accept that, perhaps, they had loved each other long before they really realised it.

Lost, it took her a moment to recognise that she didn't like the feeling of his hand, and she jerked away abruptly. Her dark eyes scanned his face quickly: apparently, the motion had not been harsh enough to offend, and for that, Elphaba was thankful. She did love Fiyero. Not like she loved Glinda, but she did love him, right reasons or not.

As she became alarmed with the truth – that she didn't want to share this part of herself with the prince – she started to speak about her cause. She willed herself to shut up, but a more forceful part denied this in her urgency to distract Fiyero. It worked.

He wasn't allowed to touch her below the waist again.

-- -- --

_When Elphaba met Glinda again many years later, she was reminded why she loved her, and why they could never have been together._


End file.
